


Heavy Shoulders

by veroreos



Series: Behind Closed Doors [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Minor Character Death, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veroreos/pseuds/veroreos
Summary: The stress of work and life finally gets to you, and you're ordered to take some time off to take care of your mental health.As always, Reaper is eager to help.





	Heavy Shoulders

**Author's Note:**

> This was an anonymous request from tumblr for some fluffy and caring Reaper! Hope you like it, anon!
> 
> (I barely proofread this I just really wanted to get it out OOPS)

It’s been hard.

You’re not sure what started first, whether it was the pile of paperwork building on your desk that was unmanageable in the little time you had between missions, or medical supply shipments that kept coming in with either the wrong supplies or missing some of what was ordered, or the fact that you had hardly gotten any sleep but kept pushing yourself further and further to try to meet everyone’s expectations.

It was when you lost a cadet on a mission that you finally snapped.

You were professional enough to not weep openly in the medbay when Angela pulled the sheet over his face. Though there were certainly tears in the corners of your eyes and it took a great deal of effort not to sob, you managed to keep yourself composed during the ride back.

The moment you got back to your room you were a wailing mess. There was nothing you could have done, you know that, it wasn’t your fault--yet still you can’t help but blame yourself. If you weren’t so tired could you have gotten to them sooner? If you weren’t so distracted could you have worked faster? Hell, even now you should be filling out the death certificate and helping Angela with the appropriate paperwork and procedures, but you can’t stop yourself from crying, wrapped up in blankets on your bed as you feel your world crashing down around you.

Late that night, there’s a knock on your door, rousing you from where you’d fallen asleep. You wipe the dried tears from your face as you ease yourself out of bed, trying to look at least somewhat composed when you answer the door.

You immediately stiffen and salute when you realize it’s 76. “At ease,” he says, snorting as you relax. “I keep telling you that you don’t have to do that.”

“Can’t help it, sir,” you respond with a half hearted smile. “What can I do for you?”

Gloved hands shove a couple of neatly folded papers into your hand. Immediately your eyebrows shoot up, your gaze flickering between him and the papers in panic. 76 crosses his arms. “Don’t look so afraid. We’re sending you on medical leave.”

“Medical leave? I wasn't injured on the mission, sir. I’m perfectly fine.”

“It’s not about this,” 76 says, patting your arm for emphasis before putting a finger to your forehead. “It’s about  _ this _ .”

“...Angela thinks I’ve suffered head trauma?”

“Christ, we really do need to get you out of here.” He crosses his arms as you start unfolding the papers. “You’re being assigned medical leave to take care of your  _ mental health _ . You’ve been overworked to shit for awhile, and given what’s happened today...I think you’ve earned some time to take care of yourself.”

Sure enough, the paperwork is giving you two weeks off starting tomorrow. Your first instinct is to resume panicking. “But sir, all that paperwork--!”

“Ana already volunteered to take on your work in your absence.”

“The supply shipments--”

“Lúcio is going to be taking care of the shipments.” You open your mouth to protest once more, but 76 cuts you off. “I am  _ ordering _ you to take time off, Agent. This isn’t up for discussion. Go pack your things.”

He’s walking away before you can get another word in. You take one more glance at the papers before sighing and heading back into your room. You’re not even sure where your luggage is.

  
  


The first day is exciting. You rent a cozy little cottage by the beach in a small seaside town, close enough to walk to get groceries and things, far enough that nobody can bother you. The ocean breeze blows through the house and you sigh in your seat, curled up with a book you’d been wanting to get to and nibbling at some of the local cuisine. It’s so nice to be away from all of the stress and worry, you feel like you could just melt into the cushions.

Of course, the relaxation lasts for a total of two days before you become restless. How is your team holding up? How are your friends doing? They’d call you if they needed you, right? Did you tell Angela that it’d be alright to call you? Having the leave is great, walking up and down and back and forth on the beach is nice but what’s going on back at the base? Why isn’t anyone forwarding you any updates? Even though you’re on leave, you need to know what’s going on, don’t you?

On day four you find yourself laying on the beach, spread out on your back like a starfish, trying to force yourself to enjoy this break. It’s hard when your mind keeps falling back to work every couple of minutes, but you’re determined to do this for at  _ least _ a few days. Focusing on the sun, and the waves crashing against the shore and beginning to lick at your legs, and the distant calls of seagulls...deep breaths in, deep breaths out…

“So, this is where you’ve run off to.”

You scream, scrambling upright and scooting away from the deep voice. Why is someone here? Who would even know you’re out here? What could you possibly--

“Easy, easy,” the deep voice says again, and this time, you hear the familiarity in it. Blinking and raising your arm to block the glare of the sun, you peer up at a man towering above you, and when you begin to pout he laughs. “Don’t make that face, I’m only checking on you.”

“You’re a jerk!” You grab your towel as you stand, hitting him with it knowing that it’s not going to faze him in the slightest. “You can’t just waltz around in that kooky getup and pretend like you didn’t know it’d scare me!”

Reaper laughs, the sound warm and genuine as he easily catches the towel, yanking it from you to wrap around your waist and pull you close. “You’re the one who scared me. Absent from the last few missions, and when I have Sombra check your status, you’re marked as  _ medical leave _ \--imagine my surprise when I found you lounging out here in paradise.”

Though he’s teasing, you duck your head in shame, eyes looking elsewhere. “It’s...it is. They told me to go, said I needed to take some time for myself.”

“Of course. You work yourself to the bone, you know.” His tone immediately softens and he pulls you closer, resting his cool mask against your forehead. “I missed you was all. Had to make sure you were alright.”

You let yourself relax against him, sighing happily as his arms wrap around you. “Careful, Reaper. Someone might find out you’re going soft.” There’s the usual tones of amusement to your voice, and he gives you a squeeze in response.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Gabriel? Besides, they’d have to find us first, and trust me, you picked a nice and hidden spot to rest. Don’t even ask what kind of favors I had to pull for Sombra for her to find this place.”

“Killing favors, or embarrassing favors?”

Gabriel gives you another squeeze. “Didn’t I just say not to ask?” There’s nothing but fondness in his voice as you huff, turning your head away as he leans forward to press his mask to your neck. “I can leave if you’d rather be alone. Have the time to yourself and take care of yourself in peace.”

You hum in thought, turning your head to press your cheek against Gabriel. “I’d like it if you stayed, honestly. I don’t want to take you from your work though…”

He chuckles before reaching up for his mask, pulling away just enough to remove it and let it fall to the sand. You feel your breath catch in your throat. “Maybe I could use some time off as well.”

  
  


You awaken in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, your breathing heavy and uneven as you startle out of your dream. When you go to move, those familiar strong arms wrap around you and pull you back to the bed, Gabriel pressing your back to his chest and kissing your shoulder. “A little early to be getting up, isn’t it?” His voice is still thick with sleep, but your heart is hammering in your chest and you’ve never felt more wide awake.

“I just need to get some fresh air is all.” Gabriel reluctantly lets go, fingers lingering on your skin as you move away from him. “I’ll be right back.”

The sea breeze is much colder at night and you find yourself shivering as you step out onto the balcony, the wood floor creaking beneath your bare feet. The moon is high in the sky, stars scattered around it, lighting up the ocean beneath it as the reflection ripples and rocks with the waves. You take a deep breath and can smell the seaweed, practically tasting the salt on your tongue as the ocean air dominates your senses.

It’s a technique Angela taught you, to ground yourself when you’re panicking--take note of the five senses and use it to connect to the world around you, or maybe even to a better place, a happier memory. You focus on the moment, committing this scene to memory, to remember in hard times later.

Apparently you take longer than you thought. The creaking of the floorboards behind you catches your attention, and when you turn, it’s Gabriel at the doorway, briefs clinging to his hips, gaze no longer tired but instead sharp and focused.

It this short period of time, you’ve become addicted to those eyes. The intense look he gives you  has so far managed to send chills down your spine every time, even now as he closes the few feet between the two of you and takes a stand next to you at the edge of the balcony. “Is the view better at night or during the day?”

“Mmm. They both have their pros and cons.” You place your hand over his on the railing and he smiles softly, leaning over to give you a brief kiss. You can’t help but smile in return when he pulls away. “I think they’re both better knowing that the other is around. Sun and moon, yin and yang and all that.”

“Did you really come out here just to philosophize? It’s freezing.”

“Had a rough dream. Needed to clear my head.”

You slide a step closer to him and tuck yourself against him. Gabriel immediately takes the cue and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tight to his warm chest. It’s hard to know how long the two of you stand out there, but it’s hard not to let yourself fall into a calm and comfortable state. The stress and anxiety of life seems so far away when you’re focused on the man next to you, the moon beginning its descent and the faintest traces of purple and pink starting to lap at the horizon.

“You know,” Gabriel says, looking thoughtful as he scratches his chin, though his tone doesn’t sound serious in the slightest. “There’s something symbolic here. Like...you’re the day and I’m the night or something. You know, because you and I are--actually, this sounds real damn campy now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“Aw, I think it’s cute!” He shakes his head and you try to give him the biggest frown you can, though it’s hard to do while you’re trying not to laugh. “Come on Mister Poet, wax me something beautiful here!”

“I’d rather us not waste our time together with me spewing the equivalent of high school love letters at you.”

“Did you write love letters in high school?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it, let’s just go back to bed--”

“Oh no you don’t! Either you craft me an eloquent metaphor about the moon and the sun, or you tell me about your high school poetry.”

Gabriel lets out a long, exaggerated groan before resting his head against yours, just barely biting back a smile at the way you giggle. “You’re  _ killing _ me. Alright, let’s see...we’re like the...you’re like the day, because it’s warm and...fuck it. So the first letter I wrote was to this guy named Matthew…”

You two stay wrapped up in each other, engrossed in stories and laughter and gentle hands and warm caresses.

The night doesn’t feel so cold anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I take requests @ vault11overseer on tumblr!  
> I'm shifting my focus to writing Destiny stuff lately but man I am always a sucker for fluff fics,,,


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